Flames of the Phoenix
by TimeLord Say0
Summary: Magic, a new life and a new world. All things Sonya thought were fiction, until her death made them reality. (Worlds collide and one person is thrown from all they know into a world they understand better than their own.) [I know, I already have a fanfic going, but this idea wouldn't let me go! Forgive me!] M for detailed violence and later chapters.-TL
1. Get out Alive

**Chapter 1 - Get Out Alive**

 **Short I know, but like most of my Fan-fictions, first chapter is just a setup, the rest of the chapters are much longer.**

 **Also! Those of you reading my Silence is Golden fan-fiction, don't worry! I'm still working on it, but it's slow going because I don't know where I'm gonna head next in it. I've tried multiple ideas and none of them fit right, so please be patient!**

 **Now then: To address first time readers joining me- I will warn you, there will be times where I won't update for days, weeks even months at a time. This isn't your fault for not reviewing, this is all me and I tend to go into depressive states where I just don't want to do anything. I do eventually end up writing again, especially if it's popular or if I'm interested in seeing how the ending turns out.**

 **As of right now, I have several chapters written up ahead of time and plan on posting once a week so, you have several weeks without any worry of nothing being posted. This is the first time I've written for the Harry Potter fandom, and while I am a huge fan, I may be vague or completely wrong about some details, so I'm looking to you, fans, to help me out if that happens.**

 **Please be understanding, and DO NOT BE AFRAID TO TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK. Don't be outright rude, but anything that helps me better myself as a writer and helps me make this story better is welcome. I enjoy long reviews with pointers and descriptions of what you liked/didn't like.**

 **Now that's out of the way, onward to the story!**

 **-I do NOT own HP or it's characters**

 **-I DO own Sonya and the Plot**

 **~TL**

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Fire burns, you know?

Yeah, horrible opening, I know, but still... Ouch.

I mean, think about it, it's used to cook, to melt iron... Did you know fire could catch bone on fire if it's hot enough? Because I didn't, not until today. Fun times, I might add, learning all of this while trying to escape a building that's about to collapse because the flames had weakened the support structure.

Did I mention it's hot yet?

Oh! And another thing, who the hell sets fire to a building in the middle of the night? I mean, people sleep, normal people sleep so they can get up in the morning and go to work. Not so they can be rudely awakened by blaring fire alarms and panicked screaming in the hallways of their apartment building.

So that's how my day's been so far, well... Early day, too early for me to care about anything else other than, you know, escaping. Oh one more thing to add is that even if you're crawling, it doesn't make one damn difference in a building with more than one floor, wanna know why? Because smoke rises... Right through the vents on the damn floor! So crawling? Useless.

So here I am, running through the fifth story of an apartment building in the middle of a busy city, coughing up a lung while searching for the stairs at the other end, one hand clutching my glasses to my face because they oh-so-conveniently broke after running into some moron right outside my door. The other hand pressed to the wall beside me so I have an idea of where I am.

I bet you're wondering where I learned about the bone burning tidbit, aren't you? Well, I didn't forget it, no... I don't think I'll ever forget it... As in nightmares for the rest of my life.

Little old lady that lived down the hall, no, she isn't the typical oh so sweet one either, this woman crawled straight from the pits of hell... Or rather the pits of some archaic religious church where throwing bibles at same-sex couples is not only approved, but required.

Little old lady pinned to a wall by a piece of ceiling that came down on her. Thankfully she was already dead, not because I hated her, but the wall behind her had caught, burnt right through the skin and muscle on her shoulder already, straight to the bone... And yes, the bone was burning too.

No matter how much perfume I spray directly up my nose, I will never get rid of that smell. I would rather vacation in a sewage pit for a week than smell that again, even for one second. On the plus side, my friend Brianna will be happy because I definitely never want to see another piece of meat in my life again, cooked or otherwise. Damn vegans, if they want to recruit, all they have to do is show people a video of someone burning in a fire, definitely ruin anyone's appetite for meat.

Back to running for my life, curiously, I still haven't found the stairs, and I know I should be there by now... Everyone else is already either gone, dead or dying. I did try to help, don't you shake your head at me, I really did!

But searing your hands with second degree burns trying to open the metal handle of a door for someone inside is just plain stupid because you can't do much else after that other than tell them sorry and run away before their screams can imprint in your memory.

Choking on the smoke, blocking out screams and trying not to see the bodies laying on the ground or against the walls as you pass them all while trying to escape in one piece is more than what someone expects when reading a book about a burning building. Or watching a movie for that matter, no matter how hard they try, no one could ever fully capture the fear and desperation that one feels being trapped inside.

Your lungs burn, your nose itches and all you can think about is how hot it is, how much you wish you could get out and everyone else you knew, even if it was only by sight, could get out with you. That burnt person laying in the middle of the floor, barely twitching and making little sounds of pain could be someone's son or brother. But no, you try not to think about it so you can get out alive.

That's all you want to do, is survive all of this so you can go on and forget about it. Not to mention the years of therapy you'd have to endure so your nightmares for years afterwards won't bother you so much.

That creaking noise overhead, could just be the wind... But, I know better, that's one thing movies got right, was despite how loud the flames were or how fast your heart was beating in your ears. You could hear the sounds of the building slowly giving out, like an hourglass running out of sand, you knew it was a timer, and unfortunately, it wasn't on my side.

Looking up, I stared at the bare ceiling, the metal beams separating the floor above from the one I was one were groaning, louder by the second. The smoke was so thick, I could barely see the flames licking at the wood of the floor past them, faint flickers of light and that roaring whoosh were the only indication I had that the fire had made it's way to that floor.

Another loud groan, a creak and finally, the metal beams wrenched free.

All I could do was close my eyes and try to run, to get out from under them before they crashed down.

Unfortunately, speed was never my strong point.

I could feel the heat from the metal before it hit me, right between my shoulder blades. I could feel something inside snap, like when you pop your knuckles, that faint feeling of relief for a split second then pain. Searing hot metal pressing against my back as I lay on the floor. Too hot to push off, to heavy to move even if I could try.

Could being the main word considering nothing was moving now, spines weren't made to deal with that kind of force. I could feel my throat burning, but I couldn't scream, too much smoke damage I guess. Just a faint gasping and whistling noise made it out of me as I lay there.

You know, they said that your life flashes before your eyes just before death.

I couldn't see anything but the open stairwell I had been looking for just a few moments ago, only a few feet away from me. The kicker? There was fire on the stairs leading down. Closing my eyes, I could feel tears building up, cold compared to the heat around me, burning their way down my face as the salt seeped into the small cuts and burns on the skin there. Nothing like seeing your attempt at living had been useless anyway.

Everything around me was starting to grow faint, the flames weren't so loud now, even my heartbeat in my ears was quiet. Then, in the distance, I could hear a voice. No one I recognized, with a different accent than I was used to.

 _"Darlene! Run! Run before they see you!"_

 _"Daddy!"_

 _"Run, Sweetie! I'll be right behind you!"_

I would have been confused if I bothered to muster up the energy to feel anything but exhausted and crushed... No pun intended. Who saw who? Didn't this guy want his daughter to be seen by anyone? Someone had to get her out of there, I was in no shape to do it.

 _"Daddy, I'm scared."_ Definitely a little girl, doing that little hiccupy cry most kids do when terrified.

 _"Don't worry, Sweetie. I'll be fine, you hide here until I can get back to you. Stay here and don't make any noise."_

What the hell was wrong with this guy? Telling his daughter to hide somewhere quietly while a fire was burning the building down around them?

Struggling to keep listening, I tried to ignore the pain in my head and the fact that I couldn't hear my heart hardly anymore. Still beating, but so weak it was difficult to make out. Strange thing was, the weaker and slower it got... The more I could hear, huh, no one mentioned super hearing moments before death. Too bad I can't tell anyone about it.

Squeezing my eyes shut tightly, I listened to the little girl's quiet crying. The now-familiar hiccuping sob. A loud bang, and raised voices made her muffle another cry and made me frown. _'I know you have a daughter,_ _Edwin_ _. Tell us nicely where she is and you can go free.'_

 _'To hell with you!'_ There was the father, but what the hell was going on? All of this during a fire, what was wrong with these people!

 _'Come now, Slone. You know for a fact the Dark Lord wont let this go.'_ A man's cry of pain this time. _'You've seen it too many times by now to know better. Even as a past servant, you should have known better than to try and hide.'_ Dark lord? Now that was vaguely familiar, where have I heard that before? Another pained yell cut through my jumbled thoughts, followed by a few mumbled curses from several different voices.

 _'Why did you do that! Now we don't know what he did with the girl!'_

 _'He wasn' gonna tell us! Betta ta' end it now, I say.'_ A very thick accent, it was more than difficult to understand.

 _'Don't matter, search the house.'_ A few heavy footsteps shuffled away, a heavy thump of something big hitting the floor followed by another softer sounding blow. _'Bleedin' heart.'_ The first man's voice muttered before the sounds of boots clumped closer. _'Come out come out, wherever you are.'_

The little girl's soft sobs became panicked, her hiccups making them break off halfway. The boots stopped. _'Come on now, don't you want to see if your daddy is okay?'_

That bastard! If I could move, I'd have gotten up and slugged his smug face. I just knew from the tone of his voice he was smirking. Most likely looking right at the place where the little girl was hiding, typical cliche bad guy.

Another little sob before something clicked, a door handle turning and the low creak of it swinging open. I tried to struggle, wiggled my head around like a damn worm without.. Well they don't have legs anyway, but like hell I was going to let this guy do anything to her!

 _'There you are.'_ That damn smirk-voice again.

 _'Where's daddy?'_ Oh poor baby! Let me help you, Auntie Sonya will beat up the bad man then take you out for ice cream!

 _'Gone away, would you like to go see him?'_ Let me at him! I'll strangle him with my limp hands!

 _'Da-'_ Hiccup. _'Daddy...'_ You just kick that man right where the sun don't shine, sweetheart.

 _'That's right, now hold still...'_

I grimaced, waiting for the blow to land, eyes shut tight against something I couldn't even see.

A flash of green light, then darkness.

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	2. There's No Sympathy for the Dead

**Chapter 2**

 **I know I said I'd only be updating once a week, but I finished a chapter last night and figured I'd post another to get a bit of a following going. After this (depending on how quickly I spew out chapters) It'll be once a week, MAYBE twice.**

 **Another thing: This is officially the first story I've ever written where I can't wait to get to the middle parts. Usually I have the beginning and end plotted out and the middle causes me problems. But this time, I'm actually excited to get to the nuances in the middle.**

 **Also: Special mentions in a A/N and an Internet Cookie if someone can tell me what common detail all the chapter titles share.**

 **Umm, I think that's it for now. Onward!**

 **-I do NOT own HP or it's characters**

 **-I DO own Sonya and the plot**

 **~TL**

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Death, it's peaceful. No running, no burning skin, and yes, I'll be cliche and say there's no pain either.

Well, that's what everyone else tells you, what people, who have never experienced death before, have said. In reality, death hurt, full of fear in those last moments.

Those last few moments you have after your heart stops, those fifteen seconds of brain acitivity last forever. You can feel everything, your entire body aches from lack of function, to top it all off, you feel that there's something wrong, but you can't do anything about it.

All you can do is sit there in the silence and darkness until it all goes away. I can still feel the muscles in my back burning. I still remember clearly the feeling of that metal beam landing on me just before hearing that-

The little girl! Crap, here I am getting ready to drift away and there's some little girl out there in the building in trouble! Damn... Should have done something about that. Not like I could do much, but hey, nothing like trying, right?

Another thing that's worth mention, is this peace, if you can call it that, is full of... Well I guess you can call it static. Like a radio that isn't tuned right and all you get is that fuzz in-between stations. Everything I was feeling and thinking had that damn static all around it. Like I wasn't fully there, but obviously I was.

The static sound grew louder, turning into a rushing sound...

A very familiar rushing sound.

And crackling.

Shit, am I still alive?

I tried to move and found that my hands and feet were wiggling around just fine, just... Sore. Very sore actually, everything hurt. Dead people don't hurt, and they sure as hell shouldn't be able to move if there's a steel beam pinning them down on the floor.

The static feeling in my limbs slowly ebbed away, giving me the full sense of how much pain i was in, thank you very much, static, you racist bastard.

Alright, even I will admit that was unintentionally harsh, but I was hurting! Imagine being bulldozed by the biggest guy you know, then slammed on the floor at full force and maybe you can get an idea of what I'm feeling. Every muscle screamed when I moved it, every bone groaned as I managed to push myself up into a sitting position.

Alright, now for the eyes, might as well see the fire I could hear... And feel I might add. Thankfully it wasn't close enough to be burning hot, at a distance...

Huh, maybe someone saved my ass after all.

Fumbling around with motor functions, I struggled to open eyelids that felt like they were being held down by a pair of weights. Finally, finally! I managed to crack them open, just enough to see something dark in front of me, not completely black, but dark enough to make it difficult to figure out what the hell I was staring at.

Somewhere in the distance I could hear voices, just the shouts, mind, nothing else. Pushing my hands on the floor, I struggled to stand up and stumbled forward into what I now knew was a wooden door. A wooden door that decided it would be a good idea to meet my face rather forcefully when I failed to move my arms out in front of me.

With a groan, I pushed myself back away from it and rubbed at my nose with a frown. Now on top of my sore muscles, my nose might be broken, fan-frikkin tastic, thank you, Death!

Turning around, I studied the room I was in and frowned. It was small, very small, the top of my head was brushing against the ceiling even as I stood at my full height. A closet? Maybe-

The crackling sound grew louder outside the door and made me spin back around to stare at it apprehensively. I die only to come back into the same situation!

Well not the same, but fire means death. Espeically if you're stuck inside a tiny room with the flames dancing around outside of it. Eyeing the handle, I reached out hesitantly, the memory of burning my hands on another handle still fresh in my mind as I reached out to tap a finger on it lightly, jerking away quickly before I could be burned.

Nope, still cold to the touch, either that or it's so hot it feels cold. Looking down at my finger, I tried to make out if there was a red mark on it and frowned. Now that I get the chance...

Where was the burn from before? My entire palm should be blistered and red... And bleeding for that matter. And why the hell do I get the feeling that my fingers aren't as long as they were before?

Squinting in the dark, I tried to study it closer before remembering that, yes, I was still in a closet and still in a burning building. Figure out the oddities later, Sonya! Priorities.

Reaching back out, I grasped the handle of the door and turned it slowly, waiting for the burning feeling that never came and swung the door outwards quickly, wincing back just in case the flames were closer than they sounded.

When nothing came to burn my skin off, I peered out the small cubby and immedately got a face full of smoke for my effort. Coughing, I stumbled out of my hiding place and squinted through the thick air, trying to make something out as I slowly made my way forward.

"He-" A bought of coughing cut me off, a hand reaching up to cover my mouth as I struggled to breathe without killing my lungs with smoke. Twenty five years old without one cigarette and I'll end up with smokers lung thanks to a burning building. Just my kind of luck.

Shuffling my numb feet forward, I tried to find a door, anything to get out of there only to feel my toes come into contact with something heavy an soft. Oh god no, not another body, I've seen enough burnt corpses to last a lifetime. Squeezing my hands into fists, I clenched my jaw and looked down, ready to get it all over with.

It was a man, a little older than myself. Maybe thirty? It was hard to tell with all the smoke. Dropping down to my knees, I ignored the fact that it was a lot smaller of a drop than I was used to and reached out to rest my oddly small fingers against his throat, searching for a pulse and came away with nothing.

Well so much for being a hero in my final moments. Climbing back to my feet, I looked around the room, trying to figure out where the smoke was coming from and spied another door, one I guessed lead out of there. Unfortunately said smoke was pouring in from the cracks around it. I had to find something to cover the cracks, if only a little bit, or... A window!

Feeling my heart leap in my chest, I scrambled towards the beautiful glass panes and paused in front of them. Man, these were really high up, I mean, I know I'm short, but even at five-six I was tall enough to know that these people obviously had no idea someone might want to look outside while sitting down. Reaching up, I pulled myself high enough to rest my chin on the windowsil and peered outside.

It was dark outside, I could see stars winking back at me through the rolling smoke coming off of the building. But that wasn't what made me stumble back away and fall right onto my ass.

It wasn't the fact that I was now suddenly on the first floor either.

No, it was the fact that my reflection wasn't the one I had grown used to throughout my many years of life. No blue eyes with odd little dark specks in them, or the short, red hair I kept dyed carefully every other month.

Hazel eyes, long black hair... And the face of a little girl with smudges of soot on her chubby cheeks. Looking down at my hands, I finally noticed the clothing I was wearing for the first time since waking up in the closet. A long, green nightdress straight from the 1960's or 70's. Bare feet peeked out from the edge of the hem and tiny toes wiggled back at me when I moved them.

No, this wasn't right, maybe I was dreaming in my last moments of life? A coma leading to death? Probably. Even with that assumption, I couldn't look away from my tiny hands, short legs and weird clothes. I couldn't move away from the fact that they so obviously weren't mine. Not even the sounds of flames could get me moving.

A loud crash from behind did however jerk me away from my shock and made me spin around to face the now open door I had debated on covering earlier.

A tall man with a long beard stood there in the doorway, his blue-grey eyes roaming around the room until they landed on me, obvious relief crossing his face as he moved towards where I still sat. "Darliene." He called, making me frown and furrow my brows. Now that name was definately familiar.

The man paused beside the other man's body, looking down at it with regret and sadness before turning back to me, a hand reaching out to me accompanied by a gentle smile. "Shall we leave?"

I opened my mouth, trying to say something but my voice caught in my throat. Tears welling up in my eyes as I stumbled back to my feet and tripped over towards the man. All of it crashing down on me as I reached out and gripped the man's hand tight. I had been burned, crushed and now my body changed! No one had better judge me if I cry, no matter how ugly it sounded.

"Hush now, you're alright." The man soothed, his arms coming around me as he tried to calm me down. "I am so sorry you had to see this. No child should ever have to." He murmured, a hand reaching up to rest on my small head as he let me cry into his clothes like the child I now apparently was.

"I-" I hiccuped, that familiar hiccupy sob I remember hearing earlier only cementing the niggling idea of just what body I had now. "I'm not Darliene."

I could feel the man freeze under my fisted hands, then slowly pulled back to study my face when I looked up at him, tears still streaming down my face. "What are you saying?"

"I'm- I'm not her. I... I don't know where I am!" I sobbed, overwhelmed by everything happening as I tried to rub at my eyes. "I was dying in my apartment building! Then-Then I heard voices and a little girl! I saw this green light and next thing I know I'm here! I'm not her! I'm- I'm-"

Let's just skip past the embarassing outbreak of screaming and crying, shall we?

A gentle hand on my head made me sniffle and look up again through blurry eyes. "We will worry about that later, for now let us leave this place." The man murmured softly, making me nod and reach up to take his offered hand to stand up. He sent one last glance at the man laying on the floor then glanced back down at me.

"Hold tightly to my arm." He instructed, reaching over to place my hand higher up so it gripped his forearm instead and offered a gentle smile when I squeezed my fingers tightly. "I do not know if you are aware of the magical community, and there is not enough time to explain. Please forgive anything I fail to mention from now on."

Before I could say anything, he spun around on the spot, his hand still covering mine to keep it in place. Darkness engulfed me, squeezing tight enough to choke off any air I might have. Seconds felt like hours as I struggled to keep myself from being crushed.

Then, just like that, it was over and we were standing on a dirt road just on the edge of a town. Stumbling away from him, I leaned over and gagged once I could breathe again. "Wh- What the hell was that!" I gasped out, turning to look at the man with wide eyes as he stared at me in amusement.

"Apprition." He explained simply, as if that explained everything.

Unfortunately, it did. It explained way more than what I was prepared for.

Only in one case can I think of where that word would ever be used. Only one world and let's be honest. A tiny tiny part of me jumped in excitement at the faint possibility I was right.

Straightening up, I tugged a hand through my tangled hair and grimaced at the long strands getting caught. "So... Uh." I stammered, eyeing the man as he eyed me back, one eyebrow raised up in polite inquiry to what I was saying.

"What's your name, anyway?" I managed to get out, earning an eye-twinkling smile from him. "Albus Dumbledor, I would tell you my full name, but I doubt you would remember it."

There it was, the cement I needed to finish building the brick wall I planned on bashing my head in on. "Dum- Dumbledor." I muttered, eyes popping open wide again as I gaped at the man, this time with a new light. One of the most powerful wizards alive in the world of Harry Potter just saved my confused ass from what I assumed to be a burning building.

And then just stood there with amusement written all across his face like it was nothing. "It is curtious to return a name for a name." He prompted softly, making me flush with embarassment. "Um... Sonya. My name is Sonya." At his nod, I smiled sheepishly and lifted a small shoulder in a shrug.

"You do know of the magical world then." He responded easilly, catching my attention once more and made me snap my mouth shut again. "I... Uh, I suppose you could say that." I muttered sheepishly, earning a piercing look from him this time.

"Look, I didn't plan this, so whatever you're thinking in that frankly magnificent mind of yours, don't." I waved my hands in front of me frantically. Last thing I needed was the one person who could believe my unbelievable tale to view me as some sort of threat.

"Then please explain, we have time." He waved a hand at the quiet town ahead of us and turned to begin walking, his strides slow so my shorter legs could keep up with him. "Where to begin?" I muttered, falling into step beside him as I rubbed at my face forcefully.

"Obviously I'm not from here." I said first, getting a soft hum from Dumbledor that I took for agreement before going on. "I came from America for one, and I was twenty five. The building I lived in was burning down and I was inside of it."

"You mentioned this earlier." He cut in, curious eyes drifting over to my smaller form. "Yeah... I don't really want to talk about it." I murmured, hands reaching up to rub at my cold arms as I pushed back the memories that began to resurface.

"Understood." He waved a hand, motioning for me to continue with my story as we turned down an empty road leading the way out of town. I pursed my lips in thought then continued. "I thought I died. The next thing I know I was in this cabinet or closet and in this girl's body."

Looking back up at Dumbledor, I studied his profile until he turned to look down at me. "Thing is, where I came from isn't... Here." I stumbled, trying to explain to this wonderfully kind man as he paitently waited.

"You, all of this-" I waved a hand around us. "Is a book. A story, a story about how Harry Potter fights an defeats Lord-" A hand clamped down on my shoulder, cutting me off as I blinked up at a now very serious Dumbledor.

"It would be wise to say no more." He murmured softly, eyes piercing straight through me and to my very soul as we stood there staring at each other. "I have no knowledge of a Harry Potter, however..." He turned his head to look at the house we had been steadily drawing closer to while we walked. "You will meet the family."

"The- The family? As in the Potters?" I squeaked out, my inner fangirl already in full on freakout mode. Would that mean I could meet James and Lily before they died? Maybe I could change it, fix it so poor Harry could grow up with his parents.

Serious eyes twinkled again as Dumbledor straightened back up and gestured towards the house with one long-fingered hand. "Of course, come now, they'll have recieved my message by now."

Message? I frowned in confusion. I never saw him send out a message, unless he did before coming into the house to get me. But, I don't see why he would have. Unless, he already planned on taking Darliene to the Potters before.

"Come." He held out his hand to me, that familiar smile on his face as I slowly placed mine into it and let him lead me up towards the door. Pausing on the stoop, he turned to me before knocking, a thoughtful look on his face. "I do not think I need to tell you the importance of not saying anything you may know about them and their futures."

Of course, it made sense. I had watched enough tv to know fucking with timelines could end up horribly wrong, no matter how good the intentions were. Biting on my lower lip, I nodded my head hesitantly, earning another smile before he knocked on the door.

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	3. Build God, Then We'll Talk

**Chapter 3**

 **Anyone figure out the common theme all the chapters have yet? No? Maybe a few more and someone will figure it out.**

 **Anyway, I know I said Monday, but I just finished typing up three more chapters to add to the ones I already have finished and figured I might as well add another one on. But to be honest, they'll most likely be coming more slowly after a while, once a week anyway, because I'm starting to reach the slower parts of the beginning and they always kill my creative mind.**

 **Erm, not much else to say here other than to thank the few people that followed and/or favorited this story and myself. I hope I'm doing the fandom justice with the story so far!**

 **Onward!**

 **-I do NOT own Harry Potter or it's characters**

 **-I DO own Sonya and the plot**

 **~TL**

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 _Edgar Bones (d. 1981) was a wizard, son of Mr and Mrs Bones, brother of Amelia and at least one other person. -_ _ **Harry Potter Wiki**_

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It was a few moments waiting outside the Potter's house before the door was opened. Long enough for me to realize it was cold and a light snow had begun to fall. Long enough to notice that I was barefoot and had no coat at all.

Shivering in a gust of wind, I grit my teeth and rubbed at my arms. Personally, I couldn't figure out just what I disliked more at the moment: Burning in a fire, or freezing in the wind. A second later, a sudden warmth engulfed me, easing the tremors away and bringing feeling back to my fingers and toes. Casting a sideways glance up at the wizard next to me, I felt a small smile tug at my lips when I spotted his nonchalant smile, the twinkle in his eyes giving him away.

"Thanks."

"It is my pleasure." Dumbledore replied easily, looking down at me with his usual smile, making me relax and shuffle from foot to foot before the door finally opened, blinding me with the sudden influx of bright light and smells of food.

"Dumbledore! It's freezing outside, come in, come in." An older gentleman stepped aside and ushered us into the warm parlor. Looking down, I eyed the thick carpet I now stood on, wiggling my toes in it with childish delight at it's softness.

"Euphemia and I just got your message." The man murmured softly to the older wizard, his eyes darting over to where I stood. "Is this-"

"Fleamont." A woman appeared suddenly beside the man, her eyes gentle as she turned them to me. "Why don't we allow them to warm up before questioning them?" Turning to Dumbledore, she offered him the same smile. "I have some tea ready in the study. And a few snacks..." Her gaze drifted to my very interested stare at the mention of food.

"James is just upstairs if you would like..." Turning to Fleamont, she gestured with her head towards the tall stairs beside us. "Darliene could go up and visit with him-"

"I am afraid the situation is not as simple as we all wish it to be." Dumbledor interrupted her gently, his blue eyes flicking over to where I stood, silently wishing the floor would swallow me up when the other two turned their curious gazes to me as well.

"I believe a nice cup of tea will help." Dumbledore gestured with a hand for the other two to lead the way, motioning subtly towards me to follow them as they made their way towards the study. Falling into step behind his taller figure, I chewed my lip nervously. It was only fair they knew who I was, but it was difficult to figure out exactly how they would react.

It wasn't every day you hear that a small child is actually a 25 year old woman.

Trailing into the study, I chanced a look around and felt my eyes pop out of my head in envy.

So. Many. Books.

And from the looks of it, they were most, if not all, first editions! Fingers itching just to touch them, I curled them into light fists to keep from doing just that as I studied the titles and bindings of the ones closest to me. A few were in what I suspected to be Latin, making it harder to not pick them up. Considering all of my own books had been burned in the fire before everything went to hell in a handbasket anyway. Heaving a small sigh, I eyed them longingly, a couple of them looked similar to the first editions I had myself, rare and old books were my forte.

It also didn't hurt that I worked in the largest and oldest public library in the North East either. Once a book was labeled as 'unusable', I was given special permissions to take it home and attempt to patch it up. If it wasn't, then I could buy it before they put it on the market. I loved the perks and I loved each and every book I came across.

"Do you like books, dear?" Euphemia's voice jerked me from my silent staring contest with the book shelf in front of me. Looking up at her kind smile, I nodded shyly, unable to say anything as she turned to look at them herself. "Well, it's a good thing you came here." Her smile turned a tad mischevious when she looked back down at me.

"Fleamont has the largest rare book collection for miles." Leaning down she whispered in my ear playfully. "He thinks the protections spells he has on them is enough, but I know them all." Pulling out her wand, she whispered a soft string of words and put it away before picking up the exact book I had been staring at longingly so I could see it better.

Pressing my lips together, I held back the laugh that threatened to break out at the image of the older man staring in open-mouthed shock at the sight of his wife easily getting past the security spells he placed so she could get one of his books. Smiling up at her, I took the book gently and opened the cover slowly to study the words written inside. In my small hands, the book was heavy and difficult to hold up as I turned the pages. So with a sigh of regret, I handed it back to her and watched as she placed it back on the shelf and put the spells back in place.

"Sonya." The sound of my name turned my head to where Dumbledore sat, cup of tea in hand. Glancing up at Euphemia, I offered her a small smile and moved to settle in the chair beside Dumbledore, quietly accepting the cup of tea he levitated towards me. The small fangirl inside my head giggling madly at the sight of such blatant magic being performed.

Fleamont frowned slightly in confusion, sharing a look with his wife when she moved to sit beside him on the couch facing mine and Dumbledore's chairs. "Sonya? But we thought..."

"As I mentioned earlier." Dumbledore murmured, putting his cup of tea down and picking up a biscuit. "The situation is not simple." Turning to look down at me, I glanced up quickly at his face, easily understanding what he wanted but hesitating all the same. Biting my lower lip, I looked across at the kind couple sitting on the couch in front of us and let out a small sigh.

Looking back down at my tea, feet swinging over the edge of the too-tall chair I sat in. "I'm not Darliene." Finally managing to get the faint whisper out past stiff lips, I ducked my head down, waiting for someone to start yelling. After all, it wasn't exactly something someone expected when offering to take in a parent less child.

"How can this be? You are obviously Edwin's child." Euphemia asked in confusion after a few moments of silence. "You even have the necklace." She gestured to me with one of her hands eyes wide with disbelief.

Necklace? Frowning, I put the teacup down on the table and reached up, fumbling with the chain I just realized was around my neck until I could pull the charm up so I could see it.

A silver frame surrounding a light blue stone winked at me from under the lights. "This is... Ah, the family's necklace?" I asked Dumbledore with a frown, earning a raised eyebrow when I looked up at him. "Yes, a gift from a distant relative." He prompted me, watching as I ran a thumb over the shining stone thoughtfully, unable to shake the sudden surprise and shock that appeared at the sight of it.

"Could it.. I don't know, hold magic in it?" I finally asked, looking up at the three sitting there, eyebrows pulled together in thought when they shared a quick glance. "It could happen." Fleamont finally answered, turning away from his wife and facing me again. "There are a few spells known to settle into certain stones."

"What are you thinking?" Dumbledore finally asked me, watching as I stared down at the necklace. Pursing my lips, I looked up at him again. "Well, to put it bluntly, I had this same exact necklace where I come from. I wore it all the time."

A beat of silence. "Where did you come from?"

Looking over at Fleamont, I offered him a weak smile and let the necklace drop back down to my chest. "Not from here, that's for sure."

"Miss. Sonya happens to be from America." Dumbledore offered, making the couple raise their eyebrows slightly. "It would seem the necklace they wore connected them on some level." He added, turning to look down at me this time, obviously just as confused as I was, but trying to make sense of it all the same.

"Darliene was murdered moments before I arrived. During this, Sonya had been dying. From what she has told me, Sonya could hear what happened in the house during all of this, at one point, they both may have passed at the same time. Sonya being brought through the connection and into Darliene's body for some unknown reason."

"Oh dear..." Euphemia breathed in, covering her mouth with both hands as a couple of tears slipped down her cheeks. "That poor child..."

Biting my tongue, I ignored the stab of upset that they weren't even phased by the fact I had died as well. A moment later, I sighed and kicked myself mentally at the childish reaction. Reaching over, I picked up my teacup again and took a sip. "The problem is." I caught their attention again with a small sigh, crossing my legs at the knees and bouncing my foot sightly in an anxious motion.

"I'm not... However old she is." Looking back up, I frowned and let out a slight huff of frustration. "I was 25 before... This happened." I gestured at myself and looked up at Dumbledor. "I think I already know why you brought me here. But considering the situation..."

Trailing off, I left the unfinished question hanging in the air: What the hell do we do now?

Dumbledore shifted in his seat and turned to look at couple across from us. "Would you excuse us? I believe we may need to work something out considering her situation." He murmured, earning a couple of nods from them as they got to their feet and left the study, the door shutting with a click behind them.

"Dumbledore-"

"I believe it is in your best interest to stay here." He interrupted me, his blue eyes hard and sharp as they stared me down. "Wh- I can't stay here and play a little girl!" I protested, sliding down off of the chair and stumbling a bit when I landed before turning to look up at him, hands planted on my hips. Tapping one of my feet, I kicked back the urge to stomp my foot and grit my teeth slightly. This body would be the death of me! Already it was trying to show it's age despite how old I was mentally.

Settling the cup down on the table as well, Dumbledore got to his feet as well and paced to the back wall of the study, looking out the window into the darkness thoughtfully before turning to look at me, resolution lined on his face.

"Voldemort had targeted the family you are now a part of." He finally stated, making my spine straighten up at the mention of the dark wizard. "His followers were the ones that had broken into the house and murdered both Edwin and his daughter, who's body you now reside in." Waving a hand at me, I frowned slightly in thought. If that was true, then if I happened to be noticed by another of his followers somewhere else, he would know something happened, or in a less horrible situation, simply think the person who claimed to kill her didn't.

Either way, they'd be after me.

"So... It's safer to stay where you know where I am." I finally concluded reluctantly, watching a small smile twitch at the corner of his mouth before he nodded in agreement. "I'm not a child, Dumbledore." I sighed, flapping my hands at my sides in slight frustration, agitation making my small body begin pacing in an attempt to work off the energy building up. "I can't play a kid, I haven't been one for a long time."

There was definitely some amusement in his eyes this time as he watched me pace and wave my hands around. "Not to mention I know things I shouldn't, I really don't think it's good to know any of this. Not while I'm staying here." Turning, I pinned Dumbledore with a sharp stare. "James is their son, James Potter?"

"Correct."

"I know too much about his personal history." I frowned, folding my arms across my chest and flopped back on the couch. "Like... I know who he marries, I know what happens to them, his best friends..." I trailed off and looked up at the man, eyebrows furrowed in thought. "I can tell you all the big moments in his life without even thinking about it."

"That would be a problem." Dumbledore finally agreed with me, making me cheer quietly inside my head. Maybe I'd get a place of my own after all! I wouldn't go anywhere, maybe I'd have an allowance I could use to get things through owl post and when it time to go to school... Oh hell yes! I'd have way more fun than should be legal when that happened.

A soft knock on the door brought us out of our conversation and over to where Euphemia popped her head into the room, a small smile on her face when she saw me laying on the couch. "I took the opportunity to have our house elf, Bellsy, prepare a guest room for you." She explained softly, looking between the two of us for a moment before disappearing out of the room again.

Staring at the closed door, I frowned in thought, fingers tapping on the soft cushion under me. A few moments later, I was on my feet, mind racing with several possibilities with multiple outcomes before I finally reached a decision. One I didn't like, but... In the spirit of things, it was probably the best one considering everything that was working against me in this universe already.

"Dumbledore." I called, drawing his thoughts away from a book he had picked up to read while I had been brainstorming. Looking up, he closed the cover and placed it off to the side then gave me his full attention.

"Is there..." I hesitated a moment, wondering if this was really a good idea before glancing at the door again. "Is there a spell to... Temporarily block memories?" Turning to look at him, I watched the wizard closely as he turned over my question in his mind. "It is possible." He finally admitted, making me tug on a strand of hair nervously.

"Is it possible to pick and choose what ones are blocked?"

His blue eyes leveled on mine, silently accessing me before he nodded a yes.

"Can you cast the spell?" A split second after I asked it, I noticed that twinkle in his eyes again and silently cursed myself for asking such a stupid question. "Never mind, I know you can cast it."

"Would you care to enlighten me your thoughts or shall I guess?" He asked, amused when I tossed him a wry look and rolled my eyes.

"Can you block any memories I have of... Well, of what I mentioned earlier? Leave me with the understanding of magic." I flapped a hand quickly, trying to get my thoughts across to the brilliant man sitting across from me. "I'm assuming the girl I am now was aware of magic and could possibly do it herself. I need to remember that or end up having everyone question my sanity."

Sounding suspiciously like he hid a laugh behind a cough, Dumbledore gestured for me to continue. "What I'm saying is, if you insist I stay here and play the part, I can't. Not with everything I know."

Hesitating, I sat down and let out a low sigh. "Also, if worst comes to worse I can't promise I won't tell anyone anything if I were to be... Well, tortured." I winced at the idea of it, immediately flashing to the searing pain I had felt in my back moments before my death. That would definitely be something that followed me to my grave, early or not.

Silence descended between us, me nervous and anxious while Dumbledore pondered over my suggestion, fingers tapping lightly against the arm of his chair while he thought.

"You must know, this spell, while it temporarily blocks memories... Some of the more... Stronger ones will bleed through." He finally stated, making me straighten up and eye him warily. That was not something I wanted to hear, especially after I just offered myself up for such a spell in the first place.

"Stronger ones?" I questioned hesitantly, watching as he got to his feet and moved to stand in front of me, a solemn look on his face as he stared down at my upturned face. "Yes." He stated simply, watching me shift in my seat before nodding my head slowly. "I'll have to risk it, now won't I?"

"I am curious." He murmured, pulling his wand from somewhere in his sleeve and preparing it to cast the spell. "Such loyalty to someone you've never met."

Knowing where he was going with his statement, I offered him a smile and lifted a shoulder in a shrug. "The story helped me more than I could ever really explain."

"So it would seem." His eyes twinkled slightly as he studied me for a moment, then twirled the wand in his fingers in a complicated pattern and tapped the middle of my forehead with it.

Blackness.

* * *

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	4. Mama

**Chapter 4**

 **A quick A/N before you move onto the main story. Thanks so much for liking and reading my story. I've only gotten one review but t was a good one and cheered me up a bit when i read it.**

 **From here on out, the story will be told in 3rd person. I know a lot of people hate switch ups but I can't keep typing like that. I had to re-write the last chapter several times because when I went back over it because I started writing in 3rd person halfway through.**

 **Sorry, but I tried.**

 **Anyway to those of you that followed already: Thank you**

 **To anyone new: Welcome!**

 **-I do NOT own Harry Potter or it's characters**

 **-I DO own Sonya and the plot**

 **~TL**

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* * *

 _Two months later- March 26th_

Euphemia stepped out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel while she walked to the bottom of the staircase. "James, Sonya! Breakfast!"

Two pairs of thumping feet made themselves known, followed by shouted childish insults as the two six year olds appeared at the top. "James, give it back!" Sonya whined, racing after the boy ahead of her as he tramped down the stairs.

"Not until you catch me!" James called back, stumbling down a stair when he turned to look at her over his shoulder. Stopping at the top of the stairs, Sonya stomped a foot in frustration and narrowed her eyes in anger at the young boy now standing at the bottom next to Euphemia.

"James, what did you take?" His mother sighed, looking down at him with a raised eyebrow. James shifted on his feet guiltily and pulled his arm out from behind his back, showing her the book he held. "She wouldn't play anything with me while she was reading it!" He whined when she took the book from him and turned it over in her hands.

"I told you I was almost done." Sonya huffed, stomping down the stairs until she stood right in front of him with her arms crossed, an irritated look on her face. "I only had two pages left!"

"Two pages, then another book!" James retorted, crossing his own arms as he glared right back. "You promised we would go outside and play!"

"James, you shouldn't take things that don't belong to you." Euphemia murmured, still staring at the book in her hands before turning her attention to Sonya. "Where did you get this book?"

Shuffling her feet, Sonya looked down at them and twisted her hands behind her back. "I found it in the study."

Fleamont poked his head from the kitchen with a frown on his face. "What's taking so long? I'm starving." He moaned dramatically, rubbing his stomach while he did, earning a couple of giggles from both kids. "Just settling an argument." Euphemia smiled, placing a hand on both of their shoulders and guiding them into the kitchen.

Settling down at the table, she placed the book on a nearby counter and settled down across from Fleamont, James and Sonya sitting on the other two sides across from each other. Just as they settled into their chairs, a small, female house elf tottered into the room, a large platter hovering in front of her as she walked towards the table and set it down.

"Dinner Misters and Missuses!" She squeaked happily, earning a bright smile from Sonya as she bowed low enough for her long nose to brush the floor. "Thank you Bellsy." Sonya and Euphemia murmured to the house elf as she turned and walked from the room.

James bounced in his chair and reached forward to snag a piece of meat from the platter only to have his mother slap the back of his hand lightly. "James, manners." She raised an eyebrow at his sulking and turned to Fleamont with the same look when she spotted his hand inching towards the platter himself.

Sonya ducked her head down and hid a grin when he tossed her and James a pained grimace and settled back in his chair reluctantly. Once sure everyone was seated properly and not trying to steal bites of anything, she pulled out her wand and flicked it smartly, sending pieces of roast and scoops of vegitables to each plate.

"Mum, what are we doing for tomorrow?" James asked midway through the meal, making both of his parents look up at each other with wry smiles. Sonya on the other hand was confused. What was so special about tomorrow? The only thing she knew was it was Monday, unless they had something special planned? But why not the weekend instead?

Picking at her food Sonya frowned at the questions in her mind and glanced across the table at James. "What's special about tomorrow?"

"It's James's birthday tomorrow." Fleamont explained, digging into his second helping with gusto. "Oh... I didn't know." She murmured softly, looking back down at her food and picked at it again. Looking over at Euphemia, she put her fork down and folded her hands neatly on her lap. "When's my birthday?"

At this both of the adults paused, glancing at each other then back at her hesitantly. "Well-"

James snorted, cutting Fleamont off as he shoved a carrot in his mouth and chewed it quickly before swallowing. "Stupid! You can't even remember your birthday?'

"I'm not stupid! I just can't remember!" Sonya shot back, feeling frustrated tears build up in her eyes when James shot her a blank look. "How can you forget your birthday is the same day as mine? You really are stupid." Rolling his eyes, he shoved another large bite of roast in his mouth without another word.

"But tomorrow's your birthday." Sonya frowned, watching him as he let out a groan and looked up at her with narrow eyes. "You look like me, so obviously your my twin! Now hurry up and eat, I wanna go outside and play before we gotta go to bed." Shaking his head, James returned his full attention back to the food in front of him.

Euphemia and Fleamont shared a small smile at Jame's words. It seemed like he had actually paid attention to the conversation they had with him the day after she had arrived. At first he didn't want them to adopt her, but Fleamont had the brilliant idea to tell him that they looked enough like she could be his twin sister for fun.

He had gone quiet after that and turned back to his toy broomstick and didn't say another word. They weren't sure if he had even bothered to remember what they said.

Sonya blinked at James then looked at the adults with a confused look on her face. "I'm not his twin."

"No, but wouldn't it be fun to pretend, Darling?" Euphemia asked with a teasing smile at the young girl's curious expression. "Yeah! Can you think of all the jokes we can make?" James added enthusiastically, leaning forward on the table, he grinned at Sonya as she looked back at him, a small smile growing on her own face. "No one will know! It'll be our secret!"

"When we go to Hogwarts, we can take each other's classes and no one will know!" James added, much to his mother's disapproval and quickly ducked his head down under her sharp gaze. "I wasn't serious."

Fleamont on the other hand bit back a chuckle and hid it behind his wineglass when his wife turned to look at him this time. "That's right, James, you should always go to your own classes." He said sternly, making both kids shoot each other a quick grin before quickly disappearing into their food again.

"Of course." Euphemia sighed and shook her head before turning back to her food with a smile on her lips.

* * *

"James?" Looking over at where Sonya sat in the fading sunlight, James tossed a handful of grass at her. "What?"

"Do you really think I'll go to Hogwarts?" Sonya rolled over on her stomach and looked up at him with a small frown. "I mean..." She picked at some of the grass in front of her nervously, shredding a few blades between her fingers. "We don't even know if I'm magic."

With a snort, James leaned over and flopped across her back, making the girl groan at the sudden additon of weight. "Of course you will, no twin of mine is staying home while I go to school."

"But we aren't-"

"Shut up." He pushed her head down into the grass. "You're going with me."

"Fine..." Sonya picked her head back up and brushed off the dirt on her face with a grimace. "Get off, you're heavy."

Rolling over onto his back, James wiggled it against Sonya with a childish laugh. "But I'm comfortable."

"Jaaames, get off!" Whining, Sonya squirmed under him in an attempt to escape and failed when he pressed harder against her. "Not until you say you're going!"

"Fine! I'll go to Hogwarts with you!" Trying to push herself up, Sonya attempted to dislodge her brother before giving up and just laying there until he finally rolled off of her and laid on the grass again.

"Good, it would be boring if you didn't."

"James, Sonya! Bedtime!" Fleamont's voice echoed over the lawn, reaching the two kids where they lay and making the both of them groan simultaneously and clamber to their feet. "Race you there!" Sonya perked up at James's challenge and grinned before taking off after him. "No fair! You cheated!"

"Did not!"

"Did too, James!"

* * *

Fumbling with the door, James slowly pushed it open and peered around the edge into the room, eyes squinting into the dark. "Sonya?"

When no one answered, he crept inside, making his way towards the bed against the far wall, eyes locked onto his target: the huddled figure under the blankets.

"Sonya..." Whispering, he reached out and pushed her shoulder, earning a low growl from the girl as she burrowed deeper into the bed. Rolling his eyes, James yanked the blanket off of her and jumped on the bed, making her scream in surprise and jolt upright, slamming the boy in the face with a wildly flailing arm.

With a cry of pain, James tumbled off of her bed and onto the floor, clutching at his nose while Sonya tumbled off after him. "Wha- Who- James? Groaning in pain herself, Sonya looked over at her brother with a frown. "What happened to you?"

"You punched me!" He groaned, rubbing at his sore nose with a wince. "You jumped on me!" She defended, sitting up and glaring at him just as their parents opened the door to her room and stood in the doorway staring at them in bemusement.

"James, I believe I remember telling you to let her sleep." Euphemia chastised, moving over to examine his reddening nose critically. "Thankfully it isn't broken, just sore." She smiled and rubbed his hair fondly when he grumbled under his breath.

"I was tired of waiting." He whined, making both parents chuckle and roll their eyes fondly before getting both children to their feet and leading them downstairs into the kitchen.

Stumbling down the stairs, Sonya rubbed her eyes with a wide yawn and plopped into her chair, still half asleep as she watched the rest of them settle into their own seats. A few seconds later, Bellsy walked in, floating a platter of crepes in front of her to settle in the center of the table, followed by multiple bowls of various fruits and spreads before filling their glasses with milk and orange juice before bowing low. "Happy birthday, Master James and Mistress Sonya!" She squeaked happily, her wide brown eyes sparkling with good cheer when she looked up at them.

"Thank you Bellsy." Sonya and James grinned at the house elf as she backed out of the room with a smile of her own. Turning back to the table, Sonya eyed the crepe being put on her plate critically and glanced across at James who was loading his with strawberries and orange jam.

"Sonya?" Looking over at Euphemia, Sonya tipped her head to the food curiously. "Uh..."

"Don't you dare say you don't like Crepes!" James piped up, fork halfway to his mouth as he stared at her with a mixture of horror and shock.

"Um... Actually, I don't think I've ever had one before." She admitted sheepishly, earning another horrified look from James, this one somehow worse than the previous. "What?"

"Well, put what you want on it and see what you think." Fleamont grinned, helping himself to a second crepe. "We have them every year on James's birthday."

"Why don't you try the strawberry jam on yours?" Euphemia suggested, sliding the jar over to Sonya with a smile. "It's my favorite."

Smiling back at her, Sonya spread some on her crepe and rolled it up like James did before cutting off a piece and taking a bite. Mid-chew her eyes widened in surprise and she swallowed it down to get another bite quickly, earning a couple of chuckles from the adults there.

"See! I knew you'd like it!" James crowed, already on his third crepe, the evidence of the last two sticking to his face much to his mother's amusement. Turning to his father, James shoved another bite in his mouth. "What are we doing today?"

"We are chewing with our mouths closed, James." His mother admonished, making the boy shoot her a sheepish look before swallowing. "And, your father and I decided this year we would take you to Diagon Alley to choose your own present." She finished, her eyes flicking between Sonya and James then across at Fleamont with a smile.

"Truthfully, we weren't sure what you would like, Sonya." Fleamont admitted sheepishly when he glanced over at the silent girl as she tucked into her second crepe.

"You don't have to give me anything." She said softly, staring down at her plate as she put her fork down and folded her hands on her lap, twisting her fingers nervously. "You already let me live here."

"Oh, Darling. It's more than that, you're family now. And sharing a birthday with James includes presents." Euphemia murmured, reaching over to cover one of her hands with her own. "Please let us do this for you, Darling."

Biting her lip, she glanced across the table at James who seemed to be attempting to get her attention. Once he had it, he jerked his head towards his parents, silently telling her to ask something. Furrowing her eyebrows, she stared at him in confusion, at a complete loss at what he wanted before he gave up and rolled his eyes.

"She's family so she can call you mum and dad, right?" He blurted out, making Sonya turn a deep red in embarrassment and duck her head down. "You adopted her right? So she can call you mum and dad."

"Of course... But..." Sharing a look, both parents turned to Sonya with easy smiles on their faces. "It was something you needed to choose."

"So... I can call you mum?" Sonya asked quietly, her voice a bare whisper as she finally looked up at Euphemia with a hesitant smile.

"Of course, anything you want." She answered, nodding over at Fleamont and making Sonya glance over at him. "And you can call him dad if you want too. But he's so onery I wouldn't blame you if you didn't." She teased, making James and Sonya laugh at his expense as he pouted at his wife.

A wide smile spread across Sonya's face as she stared at them. A family, her family actually. Squeezing Euphemia's hand, she let go and turned back to her breakfast without another word, completely content once more.

* * *

"James, Sonya, hurry up! It'll be too busy to use the floo to get to Diagon Alley before long!" Fleamont shouted up the stares and turned to his wife. "How can two children take so long changing clothes?"

"It's their birthday dear, and Sonya's first trip to Diagon Alley. I'm sure James is just helping her." His wife shook her head and settled down in one of the chairs beside the fireplace to wait.

"Coming!" Two sets of feet thundered down the stairs as both children ran down them. Coming to a halt at the bottom, they looked up at Fleamont with identical grins on their faces.

Said grins prompted by the fact they were wearing identical shirts and trousers. Sonya's hair tugged back in a ponytail and James's swept back slightly away from his face. "Ready!" They chorused together, their brown eyes sparkling with amusement at Fleamont's expression.

"My my, a set of twins if I ever did see one." Euphemia spoke up with a laugh, making both kids look over at her and sling their arms across each other's shoulders. "That's what we are!" Apparently the time they took getting ready was a chance to practice speaking in sync as well.

"What- Now hold on." Fleamont pointed a finger at Sonya. "Where is that lovely green dress your mother and I picked out for you last week?"

Sonya blinked and looked down at her clothes, a small grin flicking across her face at the fact he said 'Mother' instead of his wife's name. "James and I thought it would be fun to wear the same clothes." She explained hesitantly, looking over at her mother with a small frown. "Should I change?"

"No, Darling. Don't listen to him, he's just out of sorts because it's taking so long to get there." She answered easily, patting Fleamont on the cheek teasingly when he harrumphed under his breath and moved towards the fireplace.

Sharing a grin with James, Sonya followed them over to the fireplace and watched curiously as their father picked up a handful of sparkling powder and tossed it in. Immediately green flames shot up and crackled merrily much to her surprise.

With wide eyes, she backed up a couple of steps and pressed her back against a bookshelf, tremors shaking her body as she stared at the fire. "Sonya?" James's voice seemed to come from a long way even though he stood right in front of her with worry clear in his eyes. "What's wrong?"

Shaking her head, Sonya sank to the floor and covered her head with her arms, her breaths coming in short, panicked bursts as she tried to get the image of fire raging around her out of her head. "No no no..."

"Mum! Something's wrong!"

"Stand back, James. Let me in."

"You don't think this is left over from what happened before?"

"It could be. Poor child."

A pair of gentle arms wrapped around Sonya, engulfing her in the familiar scent of Fleamont's favorite tobacco mixed with the smell of books. Reaching up, Sonya clung to his shirt, her breaths breaking off into soft sobbing noises. "No fire, no fire... Please."

"It's alright, we won't use the floo." Her father soothed her softly, a hand petting the top of her head gently. "You can appirate with me. Would that be better?"

Sniffling slightly, she nodded and finally looked up at him, her face damp with tears she didn't know had fallen. "I'm sorry." She added miserably, the feeling that she had done something wrong nagging at her already.

"It's not your fault." He murmured, slowly getting up and helping her to her feet. "You can't help it."

Glancing over at James, Sonya offered him a small, trembling smile when she spotted his worried expression. "We'll meet you there." Their mother added, reaching down to take James's hand and lead him towards the fireplace. "In the Leaky Cauldron." She added as James stepped into the fireplace, making Sonya's heart leap in her throat as she watched.

Tossing her a casual grin, he called out ' _Leaky Cauldron!'_ and vanished into the flames. Staring wide-eyed at the spot, she looked up at her father in a panic. "He-"

"Is waiting in the Leaky Cauldron for the rest of us." He finished easily, waving off his wife so she could step into the fire herself and meet James there. "Hold onto my arm, love." He murmured, holding it out for her to take with a smile. "Better hurry or James will drag your mother somewhere we will never find them."

With a smile, Sonya reached out and gripped the top of his arm tightly, remembering the trip she took with Dumbledore to get there. "Deep breath, here we go!" With a spin, Fleamont apperated them right into the Leaky Cauldron next to the fireplace just as Euphemia stepped out.

Sucking in a deep breath, Sonya stumbled away and gagged slightly into a nearby bucket much to James's amusement as he rushed over to join them. "Might want to hold your breath next time." He said conversationally when she finally straightened up, a wide grin on his face when she shot him an unamused look.

"Now then, who's ready to shop?" Looking over at their parents, James and Sonya grinned wide and nodded enthusiastically. Turning to his wife, Fleamont held out his arm with a charming smile. "Shall I escort my lady to the shops?"

"Why of course." Euphemia fluttered her eyelashes and linked her arm with his with a chuckle when James pretended to be sick. "Just wait, James. One day you'll find a girl that you'll treat with the same respect." His father chided, making the boy roll his eyes and tug on Sonya's hand to get her moving. "Never."

"We'll see, son." Chuckling, their father pulled out his wand and tapped the brick on the wall, opening the arch into Diagon Alley. Gripping James's arm, Sonya stared around with wide eyes at all the shops and people walking to and fro on the cobbled street.

"Is it what you hoped it would be?" Looking over at his sister, James grinned at her expression and tugged her along the road, their parents trailing along behind, keeping a close watch on the kids as he lead her towards his favorite shop.

"This is Quality Quidditch Supplies." He explained excitedly, pointing at the window where a beautiful broom sat. "Everything you ever want right here."

"Wow! Look at that!" Sonya gasped, pressing her hands on the glass as she leaned close enough to read the inscription on the handle. "Shooting Star."

"It's the best one out so far." James added, leaning in as well to take a look at the broom himself. "Mum and Dad won't let us get brooms of our own until we're ten though." He added with a sigh, moving away from the window and tugging on her arm so he could drag her away.

"That's three years!" Sonya complained, letting him drag her away towards another shop. Grumbling under her breath, she came to a stop next to James as he peered through another store window curiously. "But we'll still have practice before we go to Hogwarts." He shrugged, glancing over at Sonya as she cupped her hands around her eyes to see through the window better.

"What's this?"

Shrugging, James looked over at their parents. "Can we go in here?"

"It's your birthday, Dear." Their mother smiled wryly and watched as he tugged Sonya inside without another word.

Overhead a magical shrunken head bounced on a chain as they stepped inside. "Welcome to Magical Menagerie! Where every magical wish comes true!"

Staring up at it, Sonya tugged on James's arm slowly. "That head spoke."

"Yeah, they can be annoying sometimes." He shrugged and wandered over to a nearby shelf to inspect a set of gobstones. "Just ignore it."

"Okay..." Dragging her eyes away from the shrunken head, she glanced around the shop curiously, drawn over to a shelf holding several boxes with labels like: _'Make your own Cauldron kit!'_ and _'Master the art of magical stitching! *wand not included'_

Frowning, she pushed them aside and peered at the boxes behind the ones in front, a grey one with silver lettering catching her eye. Reaching in the back, she stood on her tiptoes with a grunt, trying to reach it.

"Need some help, young witch?" A friendly voice spoke up, making her jump in surprise and spin around to stare up at one of the workers sheepishly. "I can't reach the box in the back..."

Peering into the shelf, the young woman smiled and reached in, tugging out the grey box and held it out for Sonya to inspect. "Is this it?"

Smiling wide, she took the box gratefully. "Yes, thank you!"

Tipping her head to the side, the witch studied Sonya with a wide smile. "You look a little young to understand wizard's chess."

Folding her arms across the box, Sonya held it to her chest with a grin. "I love chess. Thank you again!" Turning around, she darted off through the shop in search of her parents. Chuckling under her breath, the witch turned to another customer asking for help, already forgetting about the strange child.

"Mum, I found something." Sonya crowed excitedly, drawing her attention away from the box of gobstones James had asked about and over to Sonya as she held out the Wizards chess set with a hopeful expression. "Please?"

Feeling a smile grow at the simple fact Sonya had called her 'mum', Euphemia took the box from her hands and turned it over curiously. It was obviously old considering the dust collected on top of it, but she had to admit the pieces inside when she opened it up were attractive.

"Are you sure this is what you want?" She asked, looking down at Sonya as she shut the box and held it out for her to take. Nodding her head quickly, she clutched it to her chest with a wide smile. "I love chess. I had a muggle chess board at home I played."

Raising her eyebrows, her mother shared a look with her father before shrugging delicately. "If that's what you want, darling." Glancing over, she spotted James already reaching for another present while Fleamont stood to the side holding the gobstones set.

"It seems James is insisting on another present already." She tisked and smiled indulgently at her son when he glanced back over at his mother with a wide grin.

Turning back to Sonya, she held out her hand for the young girl to take. "Shall we look for something else for you?" Taking her hand, Sonya stared up at her, teeth worrying her lower lip like she normally did when anxious. "I already have one present."

"Yes, and it just wouldn't be fair if James had two. Come now, I'm sure you'll find something over here that you'll like." Tugging gently, she lead Sonya towards the back of the store where the books were located and looked down at her wide eyes with a light laugh. "Go ahead."

Reaching out, she took the chess set from Sonya and gently nudged her in the back towards the shelves. "You love reading your father's books so much, I would assume you would like some of your own."

"Thank you!" With a laugh, Sonya dashed forward and quickly lost herself in the multitude of books and titles, her fingers brushing against bindings as she read them one by one before grabbing one and pulling it out with a slight grunt. It was heavy and big, but the title was hard to ignore.

 _'Twenty magical adventures for Magical children.'_

"Oh, James loves the story of the wishing tree." Peering over her shoulder, Euphemia smiled at Sonya when she looked up at her curiously. "But the book was ruined in the rain one day. He and your father left it outside one night and forgot about it until it was too late."

Opening the book, Sonya eyed the table of contents curiously, a couple of titles jumping out at her before she smiled and closed it. "Can I have this one then?"

"Of course, I'm sure you'll love it." Brushing a hand over Sonya's hair fondly, she turned to Fleamont and James as they walked up. "Finished already, James?"

Tucking his hands into his pockets, James shrugged and smiled up at his mother. "Dad thought you two left."

Harrumphing under his breath, Fleamont eyed the things in his wife's and daughter's arms. "Find what you wanted, love?"

"A book and a wizard chess set." Sonya smiled up at him, earning a chuckle. "I thought you might find the books in here." He eyed his wife with amusement, some secret passing between the two of them as they lead the kids over to the counter to pay for the things they picked out.

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